


A Change On The Rise

by Bittodeath



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tony Stark, Come Eating, Face-Fucking, Flexible Tony Stark, Gallic James Barnes, Gallic Steve Rogers, Intercrural Sex, Master/Slave, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Porn, Roman Tony Stark, Shaving, Slave Peter Parker, Slavery, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: Antonius Starkom, skilled blacksmith and merchant, was sent to Gaul to trade weapons with the barbarians living there. He left Naples with guards and his slave, one Peter Parker, but arrives in Gaul with only his merchandise, his slave, and his life.And though adjusting to the barbarian lifestyle of Gallic tribes is difficult, he finds himself... quite not wanting to leave. Between new friends and lovers, there is more there for him than Naples could ever offer.





	1. Arrival to Gaul

**Author's Note:**

> Don't let the summary fool you, this is purely historical porn, with just a bit of plot. There are historically accurate things, and wholly inaccurate ones. There will be several pairings that I will add as I write them, as I will update the kinky tags as I'll post. However, this is what you can expect:  
> \- Tony / Peter will only happen on the second chapter, turning into a past relationship.  
> \- Established Steve / Bucky.  
> \- Steve / Bucky / Tony as an endgame pairing.  
> \- Peter / Wade Wilson as an endgame pairing.  
> \- Loki / Clint / Natasha, with established Clint / Natasha.
> 
> Maybe I'll include Peter in some WinterIronShield aciton before he gets with Wade. No promise, though.
> 
> POV will change according to who I'm writing. One chapter = one pairing.
> 
> NB: _domine_ is latin for "master", as a form of adsress. (Who would have thought all those years studying latin would come to use for this.)

Tony knew there was a reason this whole voyage was a bad idea. He _knew_ it, and yet he went anyway. And here he was, in the middle of fucking nowhere, half-frozen to death with his cart of weapons and his slave who was three-fourth frozen. Oh, and his guards and horses were dead so basically? The gods wanted his skin.

“ _Domine_ , we will die if we remain here”, Peter said from the other side of the cart.  
“Hush, now”, Tony said, and the boy fell silent.

Antonius Starkom was a Roman merchant, and a skilled blacksmith from a renowned family. His father ruled over their family, in Naples, but the old man had fallen and broken his leg just as he was about to go on a several months long travel – if not more – to join Gaul and strike deals with the numerous tribes living there. The Starkom felt nothing but contempt for the barbarians living west, of course, but they had gold. The trip couldn’t be delayed, and so Antonius – Tony –, as the heir, was sent away to make the deals.

He’d lost part of his escort to thieves, others to the Alps, and what remained to the cold. Only remained his father’s merchandise and his own slave. He was supposed to join the _Gallia Comata_ , the so-called “Hairy Gaul”, and he had been so close, too! But rain, heavy and cold, had started to fall, had quickly changed the ground to mud, leaving them stranded there, probably miles away from any kind of shelter.

“Domine!” Peter called again, “I can see something coming towards us, I think it’s horses!”

Tony whipped his head around and squinted his eyes, and indeed, horse-riders were coming towards them. Even if they were probably barbarians, Tony felt relieved. They would be saved from the cold and the water.

The two men stopped beside them, looking down on them from their enormous horses. They were clad in furs, but even like that it was obvious they were bulky warriors.

“There are easier ways to die than from a cold”, one of them said. “What are you doing here?”  
“I am a Roman citizen”, Tony replied, “I have come for trade.”  
“Those are weapons, in your cart”, the warrior called sternly. “Have you come to break the peace?”  
“I am a blacksmith, like my father before me. He made those weapons, so we could trade them with your people.”

The warriors exchanged a few words in their native language, and the one who had been talking – obviously the leader – nodded towards the cart.

“The cart must stay here, but we can place the weapons in the baggage of our spare horse for transport. We must hurry, before the cold worsens.”

Without waiting, he dismounted, as did his companion, and the four of them took the crafted weapons from the cart and transferred them to the horse. Once that was done, the warrior who had spoken with them hoisted Peter on the horse in front of him, while his silent companion helped Tony to climb behind him. The wind was howling now, and it was impossible to talk. Still, Tony couldn’t help but notice how the warrior had wrapped his slave in his furs with him, and how flushed Peter’s face was. He didn’t want to lose his slave, but he had to admit he was pretty upset by the situation.

They rode for quite some time before Tony could see the smoke that was tell-tale of a village. It looked miserable, half-buried under mud, but it was a shelter. A guard was standing at the gate, but he let them pass as soon as he recognized them. The few people who were still outside were hurrying inside, as apparently a storm was coming. The warriors made it to a simple house at the opposite end of the village, isolated enough, but it was one of the three which had stables. The men dismounted and quickly took the horses inside. They unloaded the weapons to free the horse carrying them, and while on of them stayed to care for the horses, the other ushered Tony and Peter in the house before they definitely lost fingers or toes to the cold.

There were embers in the chimney and the warrior quickly added some wood to make it start again and warm the house. It was a very simple house, completely different from what Tony knew in Naples. It was only one room, though a heavy curtain separated the sleeping area from the rest of the house. A very large mattress was buried under a massive amount of blankets and furs, and a bunch of weapons were scattered in a corner. Plants and meat were left to dry in the cooking area, and though simple, it was very homey.  
Peter was watching everything with wide eyes, and Tony snorted slightly at his awed expression.

“Leave your boots and furs by the door to dry”, the man instructed as he started to shed his own layers. “You are welcome in our house. You may call me Steve, and my companion is named Bucky.”

Steve was tall, broad and blonde, akin to Germanic people up north, and Tony thought he would have been a fine specimen if not for the long hair and the scruff covering his chin like the barbarian he was. Any good Roman could tell you being clean-shaven was being civilized, and those men obviously weren’t.

“Thank you for your hospitality”, Tony replied, his frozen fingers struggling with his own furs. “My name is Antonius Arma Starkom, but everyone calls me Tony, and this one is Peter.”  
“Belenos, this child is completely frozen”, Steve swore, quickly undoing Peter’s drenched clothes and picking him up to put him by the fire before he gathered woollen socks and the infamous breeches Gallic men wore, along with furs. “Come, Tony. You will be warmer by the fire.”

Peter was apparently too cold to say a word, and Steve was diligent if anything: he got him out of his clothes efficiently, helping him into the warmer ones he’d gotten out before hanging them to dry. Tony was slightly upset that his slave received more attention than he did, but he wasn’t exactly surprised. He expected nothing more from barbarians.

“F-Forgive me, master”, Peter murmured in a raspy voice. “I am a useless slave.”

Steve frowned, but no one answered Peter’s comment. A moment later, Bucky entered, trudging mud with his boots even though he’d tapped them outside. As quickly as he could, he chucked off his drenched clothes until he wore only his breeches, revealing a chiselled torso and long, black hair falling on his shoulders, framing impressive blue eyes. He flung himself down on the fur in front of the fire after he’d grabbed a tunic to change into.

“These are Peter and Tony”, Steve said to him, motioning to the two men in their house.

Bucky grunted in answer and started to gather things to make a hot broth, which quickly warmed them up. Peter lost no time falling asleep, wrapped in several layers, and without asking Tony, Steve moved him to the bed. He then shot a look through the window before he came back to them.

“The storm will be here in no time”, he declared. “It will probably rage through the night.”  
“I wasn’t expecting such a rain at this time of the year”, Tony said, holding his furs tightly around his shoulders.

Bucky laughed.

“We’re close to the coast, here”, he said, “the rain comes and goes with the tide, unannounced and brutal. I have no idea what kind of weather you have in your country, but here, it is usual to have bouts of heavy rain in spring.”  
“Italy is warm most of the time”, Tony replied. “I come from Naples, which oversees the _Mare Nostrum_ , and we never have such a wretched weather.”  
“You missed the winter snow”, Steve intervened. “Now, that’s a sight to see. The rain is not nearly as beautiful, though it’s necessary.”

He set down his now empty bowl of broth, stood up and stretched, Bucky looking at him appreciatively.

“Alright. I have first watch. I’ll see you later.”  
“Don’t catch a cold”, Bucky replied.  
“When do I ever?” Steve replied as he pulled his soaked clothes back on, trudging outside with his chipped shield in hand, his sword strapped to his hip.

Bucky groaned, stretching as well, and motioned with his head.

“Your Peter will be cold if he sleeps by himself. Join him in bed, I’ll remain by the fire.”  
“But…”  
“Just go, I’m sure you could use the warming up too”, Bucky said, wrapping himself more tightly in his furs.

The man waited for Tony to stand up and go over to the bed before he pulled the curtain closed and laid down by the hearth. Peter had been asleep, but he no longer looked so peaceful. He was shivering, and would probably end up waking up exhausted. And dammit, slaves were expensive enough that Tony wanted to keep him for longer than that – Peter even more so, because he was so gorgeous and smart, and well-taught. Quickly, Tony joined him in bed under the covers and Peter instinctively rolled over to him, snuggling into his embrace. Tony hadn’t realized he was that tired, but it suddenly hit him, and he didn’t take long to go to sleep.


	2. I - The Master & The Slave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony / Peter.  
> Intercrural & Blowjob.

Peter woke up when the sky was still very dark, the fire still crackling in the chimney. At first, he didn’t know what had woken him up. His master, Tony, had cradled him safely, but that wasn’t unusual. He shared his bed often enough that he was no longer surprised by that. Then, he heard it – the quiet whispers in the dead of the night, and the restrained, mischievous laughter of people who are close. A soft gasp broke the harmony, followed by a quickly muffled moan, and Peter froze. It was all too easy to recognize the sounds of lovemaking, especially with the raspy calls of the two barbarians who had taken them in.

And… alright, he was a young man in the prime of his life. There was no way he’d remain unresponsive to _that_. He stiffened when he felt his cock start to fill because _wow okay what the fuck_ , but then he moved back accidentally, and something poked his ass. He almost jumped out of bed and turned around immediately, his eyes widening when he met his master’s gaze in the low light of the room. Tony muffled his laugh at Peter’s spooked expression, and drew him closer. Peter shifted under the covers to wrap his hand around his master’s length, slicking him up before he turned again and let him thrust between his thighs, dragging under his balls and making him keen.

It felt so good, Peter bit his hand not to make a noise. It wouldn’t do to alert their hosts that they were actually fucking in their bed. Peter may be a slave, but he still knew the basics of respect and decency. _Unlike the two barbarians on the other side of the curtain_. He came with a muffled moan, and shuddered at the warmth of his master’s release over the back of his thighs.

Great, now he was all gross. At least, he definitely felt warmer. He shuddered at the wetness of Tony’s mouth against his nape, and at the scratchiness of his jaw against his sensitive skin. As a Roman, Tony was always cleanly shaven, but their trip had gotten a bit too difficult for him to find the time and necessities to shave. At least now, he knew what he’d be doing in the morning. As Tony shifted behind him, he settled comfortably, and sleep wasn’t long to pull him under once more.

 

Morning came with the smell of warm food and the sun shining through, as though the previous day had been a figment of their imagination. The earth outside was still drenched, gorged with water, though, so the rain was real. But the weather was quickly warming up as the village woke up. The two barbarians had left after their meal, leaving Tony and Peter to their own devices, apparently needing to help with some of the damage the heavy rain had caused. So, after they’d eaten, Peter had gathered a bowl full of water, soap, and the sharp blade he used to shave his master.

Tony had sat down on a stool, easily tipping his head back against Peter’s stomach to let him run the blade of the razor up his jaw and against his throat. Peter was skilled and his hand was steady: he had never cut Tony, even once. That was one of the main reasons why Tony kept him at his service. He hated the thin, bleeding cuts he got from trembling slaves, and had even taken to let his beard grow for some time after the previous slave had cut him one time too many. Of course, Tony’s father had made a scandal that no self-respecting Roman would walk around without having his face baby-smooth, but Tony was stubborn if anything.

And then, Peter’s previous master had died, and his wife had no use for a slave skilled at shaving – in fact, she’d sold most of the slaves because she couldn’t afford to keep them. Her husband had lauded one of his slaves’ skills when it came to shaving matters, and the patriarch of the Starkom family hadn’t hesitated: he’d bought the slave – Peter – and given him to Antonius. Peter had rapidly made himself essential to Tony, and ensured himself a good place at his service. It was the best he could have – it was not like he could ever hope to get out of slavery, so a comfortable life with a kind master who never rose his hand against him, even though he tended to have an awful temper and was prone to wine-drinking, was… good.

“Our hosts would need your services”, Tony rasped playfully as Peter rinsed the soap on his jaw.

Peter smiled.

“It seems to me they are very proud of their hairy faces, domine”, Peter replied. “And of their long hair.”  
“Yours would need to be cut again.”  
“Is it an order, domine?”  
“I like it when you keep your hair longer”, Tony whispered.

Peter smiled and leaned over his shoulder, a quick glance down assuring him that his master was indeed in need of his services. Slowly, he let his hands drift down, over his chest and down the hard planes of his stomach. Tony was muscular from his work as a blacksmith, in a way no other Roman youth was. Lifting weighs and doing sports didn’t sculpt a man the same way hard work did, and though Tony was no warrior, he was certainly impressive.

Peter skirted the stool and fell to his knees between Tony’s legs, peering up at him through long eyelashes. He’d perfected his coy gaze long ago, and Tony was still deliciously weak to that. Gently, Tony ran his hand through his hair, taking a handful of brown locks and tugging him closer.

“Get down to work”, he ordered, his voice thick with desire.

And Peter did, gliding his hands up his thighs and pulling his borrowed breeches down as he lifted his tunic up, freeing his half-hard length. He ran the tip of a teasing finger up the underside, watching as it filled up and hardened. Tony tugged on his hair once more, ever so impatient, and Peter opened his mouth, taking him in. Tony was lazy today, which meant Peter had to do all the work. Taking the tip in, he slackened his jaw and sucked, earning himself a sharp gasp from his master. He took his time, taking more and more each time he pushed down, the bitter taste of precum coating his tongue and sending arousal tingling through his veins and down to his crotch.

He knew better than to try to relieve himself while he cared for his master, though, and focused solely on giving Tony pleasure. He had tipped his head back, soft pants falling from his lips as Peter’s lips worshipped him, playing with all his weak spots and pleasure coursing through his body. He was usually more vocal in his pleasure, except when he was particularly lazy. Today was one of these days, when he cared only about taking. He keened when Peter’s tongue nudged that one point under the crown of his cock, before he slackened again in his care.

And then suddenly Peter took him deep, _deep_ , down his throat, until his lips touched his crotch, and Tony cried out at the mind-dazzling pleasure, the hand in his hair keeping Peter where he was. Tears swam in Peter’s eyes, rolling down his cheeks as he did his best to breathe through his nose, his tongue flat against the underside of Tony’s cock. He managed to pull back a bit, only to take him back in again, and Tony came with a shout, his thighs trembling at the onslaught of sensations.

He opened his eyes to Peter’s tears-streaked face as the slave knelt on the ground, his hand furiously fisting his cock as it leaked abundantly over his knuckles. He looked beautifully debauched like this, his tunic bunched up under his chest as he gasped, bringing himself to completion and spilling over his own fingers, Tony’s release still warm on his lips. There was a moment of silence as they recovered, and then Tony pulled off his stained tunic and dropped it in Peter’s lap.

“This needs cleaning.”  
“Yes, domine”, Peter replied with a nod, gathering the dirty clothes and scrambling away, out of the house and down to the river running nearby.

He passed Bucky, who was keeping sentinel at the village’s door, and followed the well-trodden path down to the river, clutching a bit of soap in his hand.  
He noticed neither the band of thieves in the distance, riding towards the village, nor the man who had been after a quarry in the forest and who decided the slave was more important than whatever meat he could bring back on that day, following him down to the river in absolute silence despite his height.


	3. The Barbarian Warriors & the Roman Merchant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve succesfully fight off thieves, so they celebrate as usual... and ask Tony to join in.

Loud cries pulled Tony out of the house, tugging on his toga to make sure it wasn’t wrinkled, and he came out just in time to see the village gathering at the doors.

“What is going on?” he asked a woman who was passing by, her child held tight against her breast.  
“Thieves!” she replied, obviously scared. “A band of thieves is coming here; the men have gone out to fight them!”

Tony gulped as she ran away, but he thought about Steve, with his chipped shield, and Bucky. They would be out fighting, which meant there wasn’t much to fear. He gripped the door’s edge when he realized he’d sent Peter outside, hoping the boy had managed to avoid the fight.

Time passed very slowly when you were awaiting warriors, he found out. Though, given how high the sun was, it hadn’t been more than an hour since the alert had been given. He perked up when the warriors came back, victorious – given their wild cries, it wasn’t hard to understand that. Only two were riding horses, and it didn’t take him long to realize they were Bucky and Steve, especially as they were coming towards them. And, given the acclamations he heard, they’d fought good.

He watched, fascinated, as they rose their weapons and shields, their voices carrying easily through the village. Then, they trotted closer, leaving the villagers behind, and stopped beside him. Tony felt a healthy flush turn his face red as he took in their appearances: Bucky wore chainmail over his broad torso, his long hair braided and held at the back of his head with hairpins. His blue eyes were ablaze, and his face flushed red with the excitement of victory. Steve… Tony gulped. Steve looked more like a beast, or maybe a god, than like a mortal man. It wasn’t hard to imagine Mercure looking exactly like him. The man was naked, blood splattered over his chest and stomach, his blond hair mussed up and eyes fiery. He looked like he wasn’t completely there, but stuck in a state of exaltation that was strikingly close to orgasm. His mouth was opened wide on a savage roar, and Tony trembled in his shoes.

Bucky laughed and dismounted, going to Tony with a smile.

“We were victorious in battle, the gods looked upon us favourably!” He extended a hand to him. “Will you partake in our rejoicing and pleasures? It would be our honour to share our bed with you, Antonius.”

Tony gaped a bit at that, but then closed his mouth and nodded once, though his brain had gone on overdrive because _what was going on?_ Did Bucky really mean what he thought? Then, Steve jumped down his horse as well, his hard cock slapping against his stomach and leaving a wet trail there, amidst the blood, and Tony forgot all rational thoughts. In an instant, the barbarian was on him, cupping his jaw.

“Let us celebrate”, he rasped before he kissed him rabidly.

Tony gasped, steadying himself with a hand on a wide biceps, and followed dazedly when Steve pushed him back into the house while Bucky entrusted their horses to one of the boys waiting nearby. Rough, callused palms reached for his naked thighs, slipping up under his tunic to grasp his flesh, his cock rapidly filling up at the feeling of Steve’s powerful frame against his. He started to moan loudly when Bucky wrapped around his back, reaching around his waist to fist his cock as he laid countless kisses over his nape and shoulders. It was overwhelming and yet it was so good, Tony never wanted it to stop.

Bucky rapidly handled his own chainmail armour, keeping only his breeches on, as Steve sucked dark marks on Tony’s throat and shoulders, his hands kneading higher, at the firm flesh of his ass. The fire was still burning low and Bucky took the time to kindle it. Steve grunted and lifted Tony easily, the Roman gasping again at the sudden display of strength, watching the muscles shifting under him with delight as Steve carried him to the large bed of furs in front of the fire and laid him there, his tunic askew and face flushed.

“Beautiful”, Bucky breathed, his blue eyes eaten by his wide pupils.

He stepped aside to grab something, while Steve laid down beside Tony, his crotch level with the blacksmith’s face, and held his hard cock to his mouth.

“Suck”, he ordered.

Tony’s mouth watered as his eyes zeroed in on the impressively sized organ. He rarely sucked cocks, but this one? This one he wouldn’t have a moment of hesitation. Eagerly, he parted his lips and pulled out his tongue to run it over the length, and across the head, Steve shuddering with it. He tasted like salt and iron, and Tony thought he could very well find himself addicted to the taste. His hand splayed over the firm abdomen above him, feeling the muscles quiver under his hand, scratching at the thin blonde hairs trailing from Steve’s navel to his cock, and he moaned when the Gallic grabbed his brown locks and pulled him down, forcing him over his cock.

“You look so good like this, Antonius”, the barbarian groaned. “Don’t you think so, Bucky?”  
“Chocking on your cock? Yeah, that’s a good look on him”, Bucky replied, crawling over Tony and weighting over him, though without flattening him into the furs. “Belenos, he looks so fucking good… Fuck his mouth, Steve, I want to see him cry for you.”

Tony’s eyes widened in worry at Bucky’s words, and even more so when Steve’s hands cupped his face, keeping him still as the warrior slid more of his cock into his mouth. It was gloriously frightening and pleasuring, and Tony wasn’t long to lose himself to tears when his air arrival shortened dramatically, forcing him to breathe calmly through his nose. His jaw ached from how wide he had to keep it open, Steve filling his mouth completely, weighing down on his tongue and touching the back of his throat.

“Give yourself over”, Bucky breathed in his ear, nipping at it and rutting against his thigh. “You will know pleasures you have never dreamed of if you do so.”

Steve withdrew slightly, lessening the pressure in Tony’s mouth, only to push back, thrusting into his mouth – _fucking it_ , as Bucky had put it, and Tony moaned, his eyes rolling back, just as Bucky’s fingers pinched his nipple, hard. His own cock was painfully hard and leaking over his tunic, completely neglected. He wildly threw his arm behind his head, taking hold of Bucky’s hair that were in the way, and holding him close as he choked and moaned, the pleasure and the pain melting together in a mystic experience. His vision blurred by the tears, he still looked up, up Steve’s abdomen and bulging pectorals, up the tendons of his neck and up to his eyes, their blue eaten by the pupils, up to his mouth parted on a groan.

Steve gasped when their eyes met and came suddenly as his cock slipped out of Tony’s mouth, catching him by surprise as semen landed over his open mouth and his face, the look of delighted shock on the blacksmith’s face enough to make him chuckle breathlessly.

“That was a glorious blessing”, Bucky breathed against his ear, nipping at it roughly.  
“From a god I’d gladly get to my knees for”, Tony rasped, his voice scratchy, before he licked his lips.

He leaned back into Bucky’s touch as Steve panted, his eyes closed in rapturous delight as he left the last tremors of his orgasm shake his body. Bucky was unyielding behind him, his hard, dripping cock sliding over Tony’s ass and making him hiss. Slowly, Steve knelt, his eyes opening and finally taking in Tony’s defiled face before he kissed him, hard and demanding. Tony shivered and whimpered as Bucky’s hand wrapped around his cock and stroke slowly but firmly, his own hands on Steve’s shoulders to keep on kissing him.

He found himself face down into the furs, sprawled over them like he might never recover, as Bucky pulled his tunic down his arms and up his legs, bunching it at the waist. Strong, calloused fingers travelled up and down his arms and his back, over his thighs, an oily thumb pressing down between his cheeks just under his hole, making him keen.

“Jupiter”, he swore, unsure of what he was feeling.

A warm, dark chuckle answered him and he felt Bucky’s larger frame laying over him, weighing down on him.

“Your gods can do nothing here and now”, he purred into his ear. “You’re ours, Tony. You agreed to this worship, didn’t you? I’m pretty sure we’re better than the stone dicks of your idols”, he added, working a finger into him.

Tony gasped, his mind immediately conjuring the image of a Mars statue he’d seen once. He remembered imagining for an embarrassingly long moment how it’d be to go down on his knees for the god of stone, how it’d be to crawl into its lap and drop his weight down over the exposed, enticingly realistic cock.

Bucky sucked a bruise over his nape, bringing him back harshly to reality, and he thrust his hips back onto his finger. He could hear Steve moving about, kissing Bucky’s skin and murmuring incomprehensible words that sounded incredibly filthy. Bucky’s finger kept on reaching deeper, moving around in search of something. He knew he’d found it the moment pleasure sparked low in his stomach and shot up his spine, down his thighs to his crotch. The barbarian then turned merciless, driving his finger mercilessly into the sensitive spot until Tony was moaning, crying and drooling into the furs, his cock impossibly har as he tried to thrust his hips back – which proved impossible when Steve’s hands were holding him still.

“Toutatis, no one ever touched you like this, did they?” Steve breathed, and Tony cried out.  
“N-No, never, never”, he babbled, “p-please, please, I need…”

Bucky pulled his finger out and Tony gasped, nearly collapsing when Steve let him go. Strong fingers sank into his locks, pulling his head back, and he found himself staring into Steve’s blue eyes.

“Come and take what you need”, the barbarian said huskily, pointing his chin behind them.

Tony struggled to sit up on his knees, and found Bucky sitting on the fur behind them, his legs slightly bent and cock in hand as he lathered it with the same oil he’d used on him. The man looked at him defiantly and Tony shivered, feeling for a moment like he might just resist. In the end, the pull forward was too strong and he crawled up to him, settling above his hips. Bucky stared at him as he reached down and angled him just as he wanted, bracing himself on Bucky’s shoulders as he slowly started to sink on him.

“Fuck, so tight”, the Gallic groaned, grabbing Tony’s hips and steadying him as he almost hyper-ventilated.

It was too much and it felt like he was being split in two, and yet, yet he couldn’t stop, he needed more, needed it all, screaming with pleasure and pain as Bucky’s girth reached that place inside him, when his ass finally rested against Bucky’s thighs. Steve had moved to wrap his arms around his lover, peering at Tony over his shoulder with a smile and slowly grinding against Bucky. His hands roamed over Bucky’s arms, tracing the black patterns of his left arm where the man was heavily tattooed. He whispered something in Bucky’s ear and the man let out a raspy, breathless laugh, looking at Tony like he was having the time of his life.

“Tell me, blacksmith, how flexible are you?” he purred, gripping Tony’s hips tightly and guiding him up and down his length.

Tony was so, so close he could hardly think, and from Bucky’s hard breathing, the guy was pretty close too. He let out a high-pitched whine of displeasure and shock when Bucky slipped out and pushed him off his lap, into the furs, turning around to see what the fuck was happening: Bucky’s lips were sealed around two of Steve’s fingers, sucking on them greedily as Steve jacked him off, his fingers curled tightly over his cock and moving fast enough to be blurry. They made an incredible sight, but he was currently too frustrated to appreciate it – and then Bucky gasped, choking on Steve’s fingers as he came all over his fist. The blond barbarian smirked and pecked his cheek, his eyes then going to Tony, hawk-like, and the Roman was pretty sure Steve had never weakened his attention on him.

Bucky pulled away and laid on the furs, beside them, drowsy and relaxed, watching them with a lazy expression. Steve beckoned Tony forward and again, the blacksmith had half the mind to disobey. But he wanted whatever Steve had to offer and if he didn’t have it, it would drive him crazy. Steve lifted his sullied hand and watched with hooded, darkened eyes as Tony brought the fingers to his mouth and licked the come off of them. Gods, he was behaving like a slave, what was wrong with him?

Steve’s fingers were rubbing over his tongue, lightly thrusting into his mouth the way he’d done earlier with his cock.

“You haven’t come yet, have you?” the man purred. “Delayed gratification, dear… Consider it a blessing”, he said, lips brushing against his, tongue darting out to lick a drop of Bucky’s come on his lower lip. “You will come so hard you’ll meet the gods”, he promised filthily, pushing Tony’s chest until he was laying on the furs, his tunic now no more than a heavy ring of fabric around his waist, legs splayed around Steve’s waist.

Steve thrust in smoothly, and while Bucky had been longer, he was bigger, stretching him further and making him see stars. Slowly, he grabbed Tony’s leg and pulled it up to his shoulder, widening his stance and reaching deeper. Tony’s eyes rolled back in his head at the now steady pressure over that point in his body that made things just that more intense, easily recognizing the position Peter easily bent into for him. Except Peter made it even better by… Carefully, he lifted his other leg, locking his ankles on Steve’s nape and pulling him forward until the barbarian was flush against him, shoulders heavy against the back of his thighs. He hadn’t known he could be _that_ flexible, and apparently neither Steve nor Bucky had expected it either.

Steve rammed into him hard and fast, bringing him back to the brink, and this time, he didn’t stop. Tony cried and froze as pleasure overtook him, his mind whiting out for a second at the intensity of his orgasm. When he came back to, he had his own release splattered all over his stomach and chest, with Steve’s filling him up and oozing outside, the warrior breathing heavily and slowly leaning down to press his lips to his jaw.

“Thank you”, he whispered, and finally the manic look in his eyes, the one he’d had since the battle, had disappeared.  
“I have met the gods”, Tony said with awe, and Bucky chuckled beside him.

Steve slowly pulled out and collapsed on his other side with a groan of pain and exhaustion.

“I’d be happy to bring you to them again, Antonius”, he said with a yawn.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, I hope you liked it. Don't hesitate to comment.  
> I cannot guarantee stable updates as I'm writing this on the side, but there won't be any cliffhangers as this is not... uh. Not plot-driven. The plot services the porn, if you catch my drift.


End file.
